


Steve's Call

by RegalMurderCat



Series: Female Harry Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Abduction, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Female Harry, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Hesse is Off the Rails, Kidnapping, Married Steve/Harry, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sending of Body Parts, Torture, really - Freeform, this is angst af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-06 14:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17941100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalMurderCat/pseuds/RegalMurderCat
Summary: Steve still gets a phone call, but it's different from canon. And John still ends up killed. What does mixing in Harry change?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work, so I hope you'll like it.

* * *

_**prologue** _

* * *

Steve's phone was ringing, disturbing the mission. Seeing the screen flashing _Harry_ at him, he decided to take the call.

Even though Creepy Little Brother told him to.

Normally, Steve would demonstratively do the exact opposite of what a terrorist told him to do, but the temptation was too much to resist. Or question why Harry, who had known he was in the field, would decide to call him outside of their agreed upon times. (That would come later.)

Turning half away from his team and Anton Hesse, Steve answered his phone with a small smile on his face.

"Steve," he knew that voice, but it wasn't at all happy, "no matter what happens, I want you to know that I don't blame you. For any of this. Do you under-?"

His smile vanished in an instant, being replaced by a severe frown. Steve could feel his heartbeat speed up, the adrenaline starting to pump through his veins.

"What the-?"

A male voice replaced Harry's. "Steve McGarrett," a familiar man almost _whispered lovingly_ , with a note of glee enhancing the entire creepiness of it, "you took my brother, so I've taken something of yours."

Steve could feel the exact moment his body realized what was happening on the other end of the phone call. His knees wobbled and he'd have had to support himself with a hand against the wall of the truck if he hadn't been sitting in the first place.

"Oh, and I thought it would be nice to reunite the family after all these years," Hesse continued, still gleeful. "Say hello, old man."

There was the muted sound of an impact of some object against something soft, then he heard the voice of his father.

"Steve, son," he sounded grumpy, but oddly proud, "I gotta tell you, that woman you married is _some_ thing else."

In the background, he could hear muted curses and growls.

"I know. She's special," Steve agreed, despite his inner tumult.

Hesse took back the phone. "McGarrett, give me back my brother or I _will_ take away your pack as you have taken mine."

Steve ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of a solution to the mess they were in now. Because some nutjob had decided to take his family and threaten the integrity of this mission.

"Steve?" Darryl asked, having risen to his feet, frowning at him.

He wasn't the only one, and Steve was forcefully reminded that he wasn't the only one in the truck.

Steve pointed at his phone and gave Darryl one of his looks. The man immediately busied himself with the laptop, typing as if his life depended on it.

After that, things blurred together.

Shots. Fired at them. From above. Screams as the vehicles exploded. The smell of blood and burning flesh. The sound of chopper blades cutting through the air. Masked men rappelling down from the heli, shooting at them.

Anton trying to escape, only to run straight into an attacker's line of fire.

Steve returned to himself when he was staring at the bleeding body of the Hesse brother entrusted to his team's care.

 _Dead_.

"Put my brother on the phone," the older Hesse brother demanded, still on the line.

Steve didn't react at all, at first. Unable to get his brain to compute what had just happened.

"He's dead, you _killed_ him! Bastard," Victor sounded completely unhinged, growling, feral, into Steve's ear. "Any last words?"

"I'm sorry," his father rasped out. "I love you."

_Bang._

Then the phone call ended.

Steve's knees finally gave out.

.

Darryl found him, just sitting there in the open, staring at nothing in particular.

"Steve?" He asked quietly. There were injured, possibly dead team members they had to see to, but none of that mattered right now. "What happened? Tell me what's going on, Commander."

"He killed him," Steve said blankly. "And-" he couldn't finish even the _thought_.

"And?" Darryl asked leadingly, giving him a heavy, sympathetic look.

They were team members, knew each other, had bled, hurt and cried together. Who could he tell if not his team?

"He's got my wife," Steve laughed, humorless, a mildly hysterical note to his voice. "Unless he's killed her too by now."

"Fuck," Darryl swore softly, his hand tightening on Steve's shoulder until it was almost painful. "Come on, Commander; we need to see to the men, and then we'll deal with the situation."

He heaved Steve up, clapping his shoulder one last time.

Then they checked the site for their teammates.

There was nothing to be done for Jones and Jímenez, they'd been sitting in the front-most vehicle when it was blown up.

Martin and Schneider needed urgent medical care for several bullet wounds, despite Steve doing the best he could to stop the blood flow until help arrived.

Berg had a few flesh wounds, but was otherwise fine. He helped take care of Martin, pressing a makeshift cloth against the worst of it.

Darryl found Hunter. He said a prayer for him and held his hand until he stopped breathing. He'd been hit four times in the torso.

McGregor was doing alright. He'd caught a bullet in the leg, but was otherwise fine. Keeping his shit together.

Which was more than could be said about Steve right now.

.

Once they'd been brought back to base, debriefed, and dismissed, Steve found himself sitting on the floor in a lonely corridor, staring at a white wall while waiting for news on his teammates.

After an indeterminable moment, Darryl, who'd showered and changed, hunkered down next to him.

"I called Honolulu Police Department on your behalf," he explained apropos of nothing. "Told them that you'd gotten a call from someone who claimed to hold both your father and wife hostage. They promised to check it out."

Steve nodded, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"I told them that you were in no condition to call yourself, so no worries about them wondering why I called."

"Thanks," Steve managed to press out, his eyes burning hotly. His hands wandered up his face, blocking the light.

Darryl put an arm around Steve's shoulders, not bothering with any of the useless platitudes officers learned early on. To give unpleasant news to next of kin.

He appreciated his friend's silence.

There was nothing he could say that would make this situation better.

.

"Talk to me, Steve," Darryl demanded softly. "What's going on in that thick head of yours?"

They were still sitting in the corridor, on the floor, alone.

Well, the random nurse or doctor _did_ rush by, occasionally, but no one disturbed them.

Steve felt his lips twitch marginally, and he chuckled wetly. "Well, my Omega Mate's either dead or stuck with an unhinged, criminal mastermind of a psychopath," he rasped out. And just the nightmarish thought of _Harry_ being held hostage by Hesse had his voice wobble with the threat of tears. "Who happens to be an Unbonded Alpha who just lost his last remaining Pack member."

Presented with that intel, Darryl cursed colorfully and tightened his hold on Steve.

"She's stopped taking her Blockers, because this was supposed to be the last mission before my leave," and wow, did that feel like a sucker punch to the heart.

Because they'd had everything planned out. Bought what felt like half of O'ahu, with Harry's money. Mostly. Visited his dad, to get closure. Which hadn't entirely worked. But it had been surprisingly nice to see the old man again.

Get the chance to talk.

Harry'd taken unpaid leave from work to organize their move to Hawaii and get used to a slower lifestyle.

Stopped taking the Heat Blockers, because they felt they were ready to try for a family.

Steve wasn't even aware he was crying until a sob tore its way through his ribcage, up his throat and passed his lips.

He crumpled against Darryl, who could do nothing but be there, holding him together as well as he could, a solid, warm weight Steve could fall apart against.

His teammate smelled familiar, safe and secure, but it wasn't good enough.

He missed the fiery spark of cinnamon, the smell of broom and bike polish that seemed to have integrated itself into Harry's scent, and the note of citrus that had used to make Steve sneeze back in the beginning. Until he'd gotten used to it.

And the very real chance of never smelling Harry again utterly _destroyed_ Steve.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets some more news. Danny learns a bit more about his new partner. And his wife. An old friend shows back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No copyright infringement intended.

 

At some point, Kono had returned and joined Chin in the media/briefing room. She didn't say anything to Steve, but it was obvious she knew about Harry now.

Danny strode out of his office, rubbing the bridge of his nose a little too hard for comfort.

"So, what've you got, Chin?" Steve asked, hoping against hope that the man would have some good news for him.

Chin nodded at the screens, typing in some sort of command.

"I've figured out when exactly your wife was taken. She spent most of her time in your home," and here Steve got a full-on raised eyebrow, "but about four days before your father's murder, she drove to the grocery store and didn't return. Got a few tickets for using the parking space over the prescribed time limit, which eventually led to her car being towed."

Steve crossed his arms, wondering why the hell nobody thought to check the car's owner after several days of it standing in the exact same spot, apparently abandoned. Why had no one questioned that?

"But, luckily for us, the grocery store has security cameras installed both inside and outside, overlooking the parking lot," Chin continued, voice calm. "I got a hit for both facial recognition scans."

He typed something else into the touch-screen, enlarging a black and white video feed. It was obviously a busy time for the store, the parking lot being filled with cars and people. Mostly women and children, but nevertheless almost crowded.

Steve's eyes zoomed in on Harry, who was exiting the store with a full cart in front of her. She was walking confidently, but rubbing her neck discreetly.

A sure sign that she had picked up on something not being quite right.

She'd almost gotten to her car when a man dressed in a t-shirt and jeans approached her from behind. The angle of the camera didn't allow them to see what exactly happened, but it wasn't anything good. Harry seemed to stumble and fall, which the man, Hesse, used to store something in his jeans. Before he helped her up, slinging one of her arms around his shoulder and pushing the cart with the other, giving the few people staring curiously at them an apologetic look.

He dragged Harry over to a nondescript, black car, likely a rental, and put her into the passenger seat. Then calmly emptied the cart into his trunk, before pushing it back to the cart storage.

Steve almost couldn't believe the gall of that man. _Almost_.

He watched expressionlessly as Hesse drove off with Harry, calm as you please. No one had noticed anything strange happening. No one did anything.

Steve would've very much loved to punch something to pieces, but he had to stay in control. To find Harry, who'd been missing for almost two weeks now. Who'd obviously been tortured in that time. Who might even now be suffering something horrific at the hands of Hesse.

So, Steve scaled down his rage, his temper, and only allowed a subsonic growl to escape when the video feed stopped.

"Seriously? No one tried to stop them?" Danny asked, sounding extremely disturbed.

Kono sighed and shook her head, but kept watching Steve like he was a loaded bomb ready to go off any second now.

He was better than that though.

"Do you know where he took her after that?" Steve turned to Chin.

"Unfortunately not, boss," the techie replied, an unhappy frown on his face. "A traffic camera caught the car a block from the grocery store, but after that," he sighed, "he could have gone anywhere."

Steve just nodded. It had been a long shot, but every little puzzle piece helped them put together Hesse's plan. And if they could retrace his steps on Hawaii, they'd not only get closer to solving his dad's murder, but also, hopefully, to figure out where Harry'd been taken.

Which, quite honestly, was his first priority right now.

His dad was already dead.

"However, my scan picked up on him in a Walgreens. He bought several different colors of hair dye, among other things. A day after the kidnapping, I found him buying women's clothing," Chin explained. "While at Walgreens, he also purchased female hygiene products, non-prescription vitamins, and Valium."

The growl escaping Steve's throat wasn't something he could have prevented himself from producing even if he had wanted to try.

He was marginally aware of the wary look Danny sent him, but was otherwise fully focused on the computer screen in front of him.

"Danny, drive me home," Steve more ordered than really asked, "and Chin update Detective Ikaida on what you've found, but keep it general. I'm not sure who to trust at HPD right now."

And yes, it was a testament to how close to his limit he was that he was stating his opinion of the other department so openly.

But none of them judged him or protested.

"Of course, boss," Chin nodded, his tone as reassuring as he could make it. Already typing away on the screen as if his life depended on it.

Danny nodded, for once not staging a mutiny against Steve's orders. He just took the car keys (to _his_ own car) from him and went back to grab his things from his office.

Kono gently pressed Steve's arm. "Is there anyone you'd like us to call for you?"

"No. Thanks for the offer though," he replied.

All those he wanted to know about this disaster already knew. And were working hard to bring Harry back to him. Even more so now that they had reason to believe she might still be alive.

Kono nodded, squeezing his hand with hers, and then let him be.

Another thing he very much appreciated about her.

Danny returned in no time at all, his jacket thrown over his arm. He tugged a fuming Steve to the elevator, waving goodbye to the others.

They didn't speak at all until they were sitting in the car.

"So, where to?"

"Get on the Interstate H-1 West, then get on I-201, still heading west. Change to the I-H-2, through Meheula Parkway, and take exit 5a. I'll give you more instructions when it's time."

Danny nodded, not commenting on the direction they were taking. Or perhaps he didn't quite know yet that they'd be leaving Honolulu proper.

Steve closed his eyes, concentrating on the breathing exercises he'd been taught to withstand torture or interrogation.

For once, they didn't argue in the car.

The radio wasn't playing either.

Even Danny kept his mouth shut, a day to mark into the calendar. Though his partner was far more sensible when it came to human interaction than Steve could ever hope to be, so perhaps it wasn't all that surprising.

Throughout the car ride, Steve only spoke when he had to give Danny directions.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a fenced-in property with an elegant gate. Steve hopped out of the car, typing the security code into the machine. It was actually one of George's inventions, custom-made for them. To make sure no one could get onto their property without their consent.

Not that it had helped Harry one bit.

But even if you had the correct code, unless you were personally invited or had either Harry or Steve by your side, you wouldn't be allowed inside.

Which was a distinct advantage to other mechanical security out on the market. But those were the advantages of Magic, he supposed.

The gates opened automatically, welcoming the _Lord of the Manor_ home, as Ron had insisted on calling him when he first saw their new home.

Steve hopped back into the car, staring ahead.

They drove up the rest of the driveway, still in silence. Behind them, the gate closed on its own.

As soon as they were in reach of the main building, Steve was out of the car, almost before Danny had a chance to stop, stomping off and leaving his partner to fend for himself.

On the way to the gym, Steve was shedding his unneeded clothes, not caring where they fell. Kreacher would have it picked up in a jiffy if he'd let him.

The door to the gym banged open with so much force it punched a hole into the wall. Not Steve's proudest moment, but at the time he honestly didn't give a damn.

He could fix the fucking wall later.

Barefoot and only in his boxers, he went to work on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling in one of the corners. His first kick nearly had it taking down the wall. The following series of punches pushed it neatly off of the hook it was hanging from.

.

While Steve was busy doing his best to demolish the gym, Danny had parked the car, trailed after the Alpha into the house and was doing his all to find a first-aid kit, which would no doubt be needed by the time his partner had worked off the worst of his aggression, all while doing his best not to feel like a creepy stalker.

It felt wrong to go through another person's home without explicit permission, even after years as a cop.

Steve needed _someone_ to look after him right now, though, because he certainly wouldn't do it himself. Despite Danny not knowing his wife personally, she'd certainly appreciate still having a husband to come home to once they found her.

And they _would_ find her.

That much he'd sworn to himself the moment Danny'd seen the look on Steve's face.

So, maybe he'd only known Super-SEAL for about a week, but holy shit. Even if Danny had still persisted stubbornly in his dislike, which happened rarely, and there was much that Steve did which went against his basic principles as a cop and father, his heartstrings would have been tugged by that expression on his face earlier.

Steve could have been a complete stranger, and Danny _still_ would have wanted to do anything he could to bring his wife back to him.

That wild mix of hope, anguish, disgust, and rage would likely stay with Danny for a long time. No matter what happened with Steve and their task force.

No woman, no _person_ deserved the fate Harry'd been landed.

It was easy to forget that Steve had been an active soldier (no matter what he insisted on calling it) and likely had gotten that call from Hesse in some war zone. Because Steve was very good at making his problems seem small and insignificant, as they were beginning to learn.

Danny knew it had been absolutely crazy to follow this stranger who'd dared to take _his_ case away from him, who insisted on driving _his_ car, and who chose to actually stretch the means and immunity thing to its fullest extent.

But Steve was good at inspiring loyalty in others.

He allowed them to question him, to tease him, and listened to their opinions, but in the end still went with what he thought was the best decision.

Notwithstanding storming that Chinese freighter to arrest/shoot their suspected accomplice in the murder of John McGarrett with only Danny as backup, those decisions usually seemed to turn out to be surprisingly insightful. So far.

"First-aid kit, right," he muttered to himself, trying to find a bathroom. He thought it was a promising place to start looking.

The look on Steve's face when he got out of the car suggested that Danny would have to patch the guy's hands up before the day was over.

He opened the first door, hoping it was the bathroom, but found a large, light-flooded kitchen instead. With marble counter tops, a state of the art cooking range, and a lot of stainless steel.

The next door Danny tried turned out to lead to a large living room. Curious, despite himself, he entered, looking around. There was a fireplace integrated into a large stone wall, but the rest of the walls were painted white. A comfortable-looking couch dotted with pillows in all the colors of the rainbow. The huge rug on the floor seemed to be handmade.

While staring at a fascinating painting on the wall opposite from the fireplace, Danny stumbled over his own two feet (not his proudest moment) and caught his fall on the bookcase. Which turned out to be a secret door to a small bathroom.

Relieved to finally have found what he'd been looking for in the first place, Danny forced himself to go through the cabinets almost on autopilot.

Eventually, he managed to discover the first-aid kit. Over the toilet, disguised as a regular cabinet.

_Who does that?_

Shaking his head, Danny took it down and left the way he'd come.

After he'd retraced his steps to the entrance, Danny noticed the trail of clothes leading down another corridor. In the distance, he could hear a rhythmic _thump_ - _thump_ and the occasional colorful curse.

With a sigh, Danny followed the breadcrumbs Steve had so thoughtfully left for him.

He ended up standing in a state-of-the-art gym. One he wouldn't have been able to afford the fees for even back in Jersey. On O'ahu, it was outside the realm of possibilities. Ever.

He wondered, in the back of his head, how Steve could possibly afford all of this.

It wasn't the most pressing matter on his mind, however, so he was happy to leave the questions for later. He could ask when they had the man's wife back here, where she belonged.

Steve was in the process of decimating a punching bag. Which turned out to be the third, judging by the sand escaping from two others leaning against the wall.

Danny kept quiet, choosing to take a seat on a plastic chair instead of disturbing the enraged Alpha's venting.

They were lucky he chose to take it out on punching bags instead of the general populace.

A lot of Alphas never learned to control their tempers, never discovered their limits, and just allowed themselves to explode wherever they were at the time.

Because that had, somehow, become _expected_ by the general public. It pissed Danny off, and he couldn't even count how many Alphas he'd had to arrest over the years just for that very reason.

Danny could respect Steve for not pushing himself beyond his absolute last limit, beyond what he _knew_ he could endure, and chose to retreat instead. To somewhere he'd felt safe at one point. Safe enough to want to live here with his wife.

Safe enough to let loose without fear of hurting someone else?

.

Steve didn't know for how long he'd been at it when he came back to himself. His hands were bloody, the skin having burst. It felt like he'd have bruises on his legs tomorrow and his heart was pumping furiously in his chest. His lungs were burning nicely, and sweat was running down his body.

Instead of continuing passed what was wise, which he'd probably already done anyway, Steve stepped away from the punching bag. He carefully went through the cooling down exercises that had been hammered into his head often enough they'd become second nature.

Only once he was done with those, did Steve notice the other Alpha in the room.

He hadn't expected Danny to stay, but he should've.

The blond got up from his seat, wandering closer with the first-aid kit in hand. "Sit down and let me see what you've done to yourself."

Still panting, Steve sat where he stood, as instructed.

After giving his hands a close look, Danny opened the first-aid kit, rooting around until he found disinfectant, cotton, gauze, and bandages.

Danny treated Steve's hand with meticulous attention, in silence.

The only sound was Steve's panting, harsh and almost wheezing in the otherwise quiet room.

Danny wondered if he was aware of the tears on his face, but would never bring it up, because the man was damn well entitled to them.

The bullshit about Alphas being emotionless, testosterone-filled boneheads wasn't true, and Danny resented whichever asshole was the cause of it.

Steve was hurting, was so distraught by his wife's situation that he was resorting to physically _hurting_ himself as a way to deal with it.

It was heartbreaking, and Danny wouldn't let anyone judge him for it.

The first person who tried to slap it in Steve's face would get _their_ face broken by Danny. With excess force and enthusiasm.

He had to be reminded sometimes that not all women were like Rachel.

"Your other hand," Danny said quietly, holding out his own expectantly.

Steve blinked and mechanically did as asked.

Danny sighed through his nose and set about cleaning out the mess Steve had reduced his knuckles to. He didn't doubt that his partner's hands would hurt like a bitch tomorrow, or the next few days.

On the other hand, Steve might see the pain as a welcome distraction.

"Alright," he breathed, tying off the last bandage in a neat knot. "Let's go to the kitchen to get you some water, and something to eat." He gave Steve a considering look. "You probably haven't been eating all that well either."

In response, Steve only shrugged, not quite meeting Danny's eyes.

"Okay then, show me around this Hawaiian palace."

That earned him a tired twitch of the lips, which Danny considered a win despite the last remaining tears running down his new boss's face.

"Harry fell in love with it over the internet," Steve eventually explained softly, voice raspy from his recent crying bout. "We were mucking around on luxury real estate pages; it was meant to be a joke. But she insisted on us visiting the house, even though I didn't want to _think_ of the price."

Danny snorted. He didn't want to imagine the price tag on a property like this in Jersey, much less in O'ahu. There were a few too many zeros involved for comfort.

Steve shrugged. "Harry's love for the place was contagious and it doesn't feel like one of those ridiculous mansions. It's just a home."

"A very expensive one?"

"Yeah," Steve's eyes were wandering over the cabinets again, "but luckily I managed to marry into Old Money," he chuckled wetly, likely at some sort of inside joke.

Danny suppressed a shudder at the thought of another Rachel. Hopefully, Steve's Harry would turn out to be warmer than his glacial ex-wife could ever be.

They entered the kitchen and Steve took out two bottles of water from the fridge, handing one over to Danny before he could say anything.

 _Looks like he's one of those caretaker Alphas_ , the blond thought, mildly amused despite the situation.

"So, what's Harry like?" Danny asked, leaning against the freaking immaculate marble counter top. Watching his boss unobtrusively.

Steve chugged down the water bottle in no time at all, throwing the empty plastic container into a half-filled basket before taking another.

With a sigh, the taller Alpha sat on one of the two chairs, rubbing a hand over his face.

"She's," Steve began, "amazing. Kicks ass, my own included, whenever necessary. Tells me when I fuck up, even if I don't want to hear it. Until recently, she worked as a cop, as a Detective Inspector, in a special counter-terrorism unit."

Danny was impressed with two things. Firstly, that a woman managed to get onto one of those usually prestigious units. Secondly, how utterly _proud_ her husband sounded of that accomplishment.

Alphas rarely accepted women, who statistically tended to be Betas and Omegas, in positions of power or influence. They rarely if ever promoted women into positions traditionally inhabited by men, most often another Alpha.

Ultimately, that meant, in America at least, that women were expected to stay at home, looking after the house and or the children, instead of being promoted to elite units with their partner's approval. Especially if they weren't Alphas or Betas.

In Danny's opinion, a lot of idiocy could be prevented if men, but especially male Alphas, learned to appreciate women more. No matter their designation.

Statistically, female Alphas were 75% less likely to go off their nut in public, and nearly 85% less likely to resort to violence first. There were exceptions, of course, but the statistics didn't lie.

In the meantime, Steve kept talking to his water bottle.  
  


"I met Harry when she and her friends were out in London, celebrating both her and her best friend Ron's graduation from the Academy. None of them were at all impressed by the Alphas and Betas posturing around them," the left side of Steve's mouth ticked up, "especially Harry. One of those stereotypical idiots tried to get her to take him home, which she took exception to. Warning him off, verbally, and then sending him back to his buddies with his tail between his legs and a broken nose when he tried to touch her without permission."

Yup. That _would_ be the way straight into Steve's heart. Kicking ass and breaking bones.

"Ron pointed me out to her and she walked up to me, very politely asking if I had plans for the night and if I didn't, would I mind helping her scratch an itch?"

Danny wasn't surprised. At all.

However, Steve finally looked up from his water bottle, staring straight at Danny. "What are you still doing here? I thought you didn't like me."

Caught flatfooted by the abrupt change of conversational subject, Danny blinked at the dark-haired vet. "I don't _dis_ like you, Steve. To be honest, you're not as bad as I thought you were. I might not like or agree with some of your methods, but you're not a bad person. In desperate need of a good shrink, yes, but underneath all that blustering Super-SEAL craziness, you're actually surprisingly likable."

"Thank you," Steve replied, "I think."

Danny shrugged. "You come across as the typical trigger-happy Alpha, not a good first impression. I'd give it a two out of ten."

That provoked only a snort.

"Says the Alpha punching his new partner in the face in front of the entire HPD."

"Who gives a shit what they think anyway?"

"Not me," Steve admitted, shrugging.

Silence reigned for a long moment following that statement.

Danny tried to readjust his world view once again, wondering when Steve'd stop surprising him. (And judging by what he'd said about his wife, Harry would only make it worse when she was back home.)

Steve ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh. "Thanks for patching me up."

"You're welcome," Danny replied calmly. "And I'm still here because I couldn't just leave you by yourself. You'd have bled to death or gotten that," an expansive hand movement towards Steve's hands, "infected."

In response to that, Steve just shrugged. "I've survived worse."

"But this is different, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"How long have you guys been married?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders, smiling tiredly. "Five years, next month," he replied without hesitation, clearly not having to look it up on his phone. "But we've been together for longer than that."

Danny could feel a wave of warmth wash over him, unable to suppress a smile at the indisputable sound of an Alpha gushing over his wife. Apparently, with Steve, the toughness was all show. On the inside, he was discovering, his new partner was a complete softie. Like a half-baked cookie.

Said half-baked cookie was running a hand through his hair, one of his feet tapping the floor and gaining speed quickly.

"If she's dead, I just want to know. If she's not, I want her home. _Now_. I want to roll her into blankets and sit on her, although she'd probably only allow it to humor me. For five minutes, tops," Steve muttered. "Harry doesn't deserve this. She's supposed to be here, nagging me about going on a run, or ranting about the idiocy that is the American English and that she'll never _ever_ sound like she'd have a hot potato in her mouth."

"Very opinionated?" Danny asked idly, more to keep Steve talking than out of a burning need to know.

"Not generally," Steve said, surprising him a little. "But when it comes to topics close to her heart, or when it comes to justice and what's fair; she'll go after you until she's got you by the throat rather than back off. No matter the opponent."

 _Definitely_ sounded like Steve'd found his soulmate.

"Apparently, she's always been that way. Ron and Hermione told me tons of stories from their school days. Harry always stood up for others, especially against teachers or people in authority. She even straight up told one of the ministers that she thought his request of her sucked, was completely inappropriate, and that he should mind his own business."

"Not helping the opinionated vibe I'm getting," Danny pointed out.

Steve shrugged. "Harry's other best friend, Hermione, established an Omega Rights foundation with her help. She's very engaged in that, but prefers to keep out of the spotlight and leave the lecturing to Hermione."

Danny sat up straighter. "What's their goal?"

"Equal rights, in a nutshell. They also help educate people about Omegas and their needs, lobby for harder punishments and more expansive definitions of what constitutes abuse of any kind, and provide access to birth control to anyone who is in need of it."

Again, Steve sounded supremely proud of his wife and her friend's foundation.

But then he frowned. "HPD thinks Harry is complicit in my father's murder. They hadn't even noticed she was gone until Darryl called it in."

Setting aside that bombshell, Danny concentrated on the least likely to explode into his face part: "Who's Darryl?"

"My best friend and teammate. He contacted HPD for me, after..." Steve's voice trailed off into a sigh.

After his whole world had fallen apart, Danny supplemented mentally. _Shit_.

"He's the one updating me on the condition of the others, now that I'm gone."

"What happened?"

"Classified," shot out before anything else could happen.

"Just tell me the parts you can," Danny insisted, getting the feeling that Steve hadn't talked or thought about this part of the shit-storm all that much.

Steve sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and his neck simultaneously.

"We were attacked by," he growled a little, " _someone_ somewhere I'm not allowed to disclose. Hunter, one of my best men, died on-scene. The rest of them are in hospital, in varying conditions. McGregor and Berg should be getting out soon, but at least two are still in the ICU."

Inwardly, Danny cursed heartily and very colorfully. Holy fuck. How much worse could this get? And how had Steve not gone completely over the edge yet?

"I'm sorry, man," he told Steve, absolutely sincere. "How the fuck did you escape the shrinks?"

"No clue. But I'm not sure it's a great idea, long term. I know that Hesse is only going to make it worse. Today was only the beginning."

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
